


Until the End of Time

by xylarias



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Family, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:48:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26200657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xylarias/pseuds/xylarias
Summary: "I'm sorry," Connor says simply, taking a step back. Maybe a hug wasn't the best idea.Connor is an android, after all, recently turned deviant, so obviously he doesn't know how to give hugs. He's doing it wrong.Hank shakes his head, exhaling. "No," he says. "It's not your fault," he says, then cusses under his breath. "It's just–"There's sadness in his voice, Connor notices.
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 11
Kudos: 111





	Until the End of Time

**Author's Note:**

> Hank & Connor hug!
> 
> I was just having the dbh feels and decided to write this (very short) fic about their hug scene,,,
> 
> please note: this is purely platonic & Hank and Connor have a father-son relationship, so if you ship them romantically this isn't the place you should be--

He doesn't want to let go. He views his memories, and, according to the data, this is his first hug ever. He doesn't want to let go, he doesn't want to let go, _he doesn't want to let go_. _Want_ , he thinks to himself. Wanting. That's a thing he does – _can_ do – now. He spent all that time hunting deviants and, in the end, he became the very thing he was made to destroy. Kamski had been right, after all. CyberLife's unique model, RK800, made specifically for investigating and hunting deviants, had ended up being a deviant itself.

"Connor?" The voice startles him. "You can let let go of me now, son." Hank says, gently patting Connor on the back.

"I know," Connor responds, his forehead resting against the lieutenant's shoulder. He wraps his arms around Hank even tighter, grabbing some of the fabric of Hank's jacket into his fists. They stand still for a few moments, until suddenly Connor hears something. It's quiet, but it's there. It continues. Connor opens his eyes, accessing his mind palace to scan the environment. He soon realizes that it's coming from Hank. He's trembling, too.

"Lieutenant Anderson," Connor says, "are you all right?"

"Yeah," is the response. "I'm fine." His voice is thick. Connor registers drops of liquid falling onto his jacket. Tears, he realizes. Lieutenant Anderson is crying – or, more precisely, sobbing.

"Lieutenant," Connor says, ponders for a second, and corrects himself, "Hank. What is it?"

Hank sniffs, chuckling quietly. "Don't worry about me," he says. Connor lets go of Hank.

"I'm sorry," Connor says simply, taking a step back. Maybe a hug wasn't the best idea. Connor is an android, after all, recently turned deviant, so obviously he doesn't know how to give _hugs_. He's doing it wrong.

Hank shakes his head, exhaling. "No," he says. "It's not your fault," he says, then cusses under his breath. "It's just–" There's sadness in his voice, Connor notices. Hank shakes his head again. "The last person I hugged was, uh..." Connor is almost certain that he can predict the rest of the sentence.

"Cole Anderson?" Connor guesses. "Your son?" Hank looks up at him, eyes slightly wide, as if he was surprised that Connor knew – well, guessed – what he'd been about to say.

"Yeah," Hank says hoarsely. "Cole." Hank quiets for a moment, opens his mouth, then closes it after deciding not to speak up. He shakes his head. "You know, I don't have any family left – except for Sumo, of course," he says, staring at the snow-covered ground.

Connor isn't sure how to respond. "I'm sorry," he settles on saying, again.

Hank doesn't acknowledge his words, just keeps talking. "You... You're a deviant," he says, matter-of-factly.

"Correct," Connor replies, confused as to why Lieutenant Anderson is stating this.

"And you can feel emotions too, now, can't you? Technically, anyway." Connor nods. Hank smiles at him. It's a wistful yet affectionate smile. "You know, during these last few months... After all we've been through..." Hank rolls his eyes – to himself, evidently – and exhales. "Fucking-A," he mutters under his breath. "Argh, this is so fucking cheesy..." He groans quietly, wiping at his eyes. "Ah, fuck." Hank takes a deep breath, composing himself. "You know, you've become like a son to me, Connor," he finally admits.

Connor doesn't know how to process this. A son. Cole was Hank's son. And now he's saying that _Connor_ is like a son to him? He's not sure what to say, but looking at the man in front of him, the warmth that was buried underneath his cold demeanor now washing over his features, Connor realizes that he thinks of Hank as family. And before Connor can stop himself, he blurts out, "I love you." He'd heard it said before, somewhere. TV shows. Movies. Hank, talking to Cole's picture. Hank flinches. He stares at Connor. Neither of them moves. Connor opens his mouth, about to speak up – apologize, maybe – but Hank wraps his arms around him again, holding him tightly, as if afraid he's going to leave.

"I love you too, son. I love you too." Connor's new with emotions. Feelings. But if he was to name this one, he'd call it happiness. Contentedness. Love, for the man who became like a father to him. A father he never had. If it was up to him, he'd stay here forever.

Until the end of time.  
  
  
  



End file.
